John Bull | Page 2

arises from this incident, that those persons, who despise
the silly generosity of Thornberry, are yet highly affected by the
gratitude of Peregrine.
This comedy would read much better, but not act half so well, if it were
all written in good English. It seems unreasonable to forbid an author to
take advantage of any actor's peculiar abilities that may suit his
convenience; and both Johnstone and Emery displayed abilities of the
very first rate in the two characters they represented in "John

Bull."--But to the author of "John Bull," whose genius may be
animated to still higher exertions in the pursuit of fame, it may be
said--Leave the distortion of language to men who cannot embellish it
like yourself--and to women.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
PEREGRINE Mr. Cooke. SIR SIMON ROCHDALE] Mr. Blanchard.
FRANK ROCHDALE Mr. H. Johnston. WILLIAMS Mr. Klanert.
LORD FITZ-BALAAM Mr. Waddy. HON. TOM SHUFFLETON Mr.
Lewis JOB THORNBERRY Mr. Fawcett. JOHN BUR Mr. Atkins.
DENNIS BRULGRUDDERY Mr. Johnstone. DAN Mr. Emery. MR.
PENNYMAN Mr. Davenport. JOHN Mr. Abbot. ROBERT Mr.
Truman. SIMON Mr. Beverly.
LADY CAROLINE BRAYMORE Mrs. H. Johnston. MRS.
BRULGRUDDERY Mrs. Davenport. MARY THORNBERRY Mrs.
Gibbs.
SCENE,--Cornwall.

JOHN BULL.
ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.
A Public House on a Heath: over the Door the Sign of the Red
Cow;----and the Name of "DENNIS BRULGRUDDERY."
Enter DENNIS BRULGRUDDERY and DAN, from the House. DAN
opening the outward Shutters of the House.
Dennis. A pretty blustratious night we have had! and the sun peeps
through the fog this morning, like the copper pot in my kitchen.--Devil
a traveller do I see coming to the Red Cow.

Dan. Na, measter!--nowt do pass by here, I do think, but the carrion
crows.
Dennis. Dan;--think you, will I be ruin'd?
Dan. Ees; past all condemption. We be the undonestest family in all
Cornwall. Your ale be as dead as my grandmother; mistress do set by
the fire, and sputter like an apple a-roasting; the pigs ha' gotten the
measles; I be grown thinner nor an old sixpence; and thee hast drank up
all the spirity liquors.
Dennis. By my soul, I believe my setting up the Red Cow, a week ago,
was a bit of a Bull!--but that's no odds. Haven't I been married these
three months?--and who did I marry?
Dan. Why, a waddling woman, wi' a mulberry feace.
Dennis. Have done with your blarney, Mr. Dan. Think of the high
blood in her veins, you bog trotter.
Dan. Ees; I always do, when I do look at her nose.
Dennis. Never you mind Mrs. Brulgruddery's nose. Was'nt she fat
widow to Mr. Skinnygauge, the lean exciseman of Lestweithel? and
did'nt her uncle, who is fifteenth cousin to a Cornish Baronet, say he'd
leave her no money, if he ever happen'd to have any, because she had
disgraced her parentage, by marrying herself to a taxman? Bathershan,
man, and don't you think he'll help us out of the mud, now her second
husband is an Irish jontleman, bred and born?
Dan. He, he! Thee be'st a rum gentleman.
Dennis. Troth, and myself, Mr. Dennis Brulgruddery, was brought up
to the church.
Dan. Why, zure!
Dennis. You may say that, I open'd the pew doors, in Belfast.

Dan. And what made 'em to turn thee out o'the treade?
Dennis. I snored in sermon time. Dr. Snufflebags, the preacher, said I
woke the rest of the congregation. Arrah, Dan, don't I see a tall
customer stretching out his arms in the fog?
Dan. Na; that be the road-post.
Dennis. 'Faith, and so it is. Och! when I was turn'd out of my snug birth
at Belfast, the tears ran down my eighteen year old cheeks, like
buttermilk.
Dan. Pshaw, man! nonsense! Thee'dst never get another livelihood by
crying.
Dennis. Yes, I did; I cried oysters. Then I pluck'd up----what's that? a
customer!
Dan. [Looking out.] Na, a donkey.
Dennis. Well, then I pluck'd up a parcel of my courage, and I carried
arms.
Dan. Waunds! what, a musket?
Dennis. No; a reaping hook. I cut my way half through England: till a
German learn'd me physic, at a fair in Devonshire.
Dan. What, poticary's stuff?
Dennis. I studied it in Doctor Von Quolchigronck's booth, at Plympton.
He cured the yellow glanders, and restored prolification to families who
wanted an heir. I was of mighty use to him as an assistant.
Dan. Were you indeed!
Dennis. But, somehow, the doctor and I had a quarrel; so I gave him
something, and parted.

Dan. And what didst thee give him, pray?
Dennis. I gave him a black-eye; and set up for myself at Lestweithel;
where Mr. Skinnygauge, the exciseman, was in his honeymoon.--Poor
soul! he was my patient, and died one day: but his widow had such a
neat notion of my subscriptions, that in